


Respite

by SomethingProfound



Series: A Sea of Stars [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Post-Game(s), look there's a beach, meeting the (grand)parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-07-29 18:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16270178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingProfound/pseuds/SomethingProfound
Summary: After the Battle of the Citadel, Emilia Shepard invites Ashley Williams to Benning for some R&R.





	1. Chapter 1

“It’s fine, ma. I’m just gonna clear my head a bit before I come home.” 

The skycar hummed, flashing across the gently rolling hills, heading into the soft pinks and oranges of the sunset. This far out from Joughin, Ashley’s car was the only one following the soft-blinking nav beacons. Benning was pretty - if you liked field upon field of bronze wheat. She was just fond of the distinct lack of smoking ruins and bullet holes. On this planet, you could almost forget there’d been a war on.

Mariana Williams didn’t sound convinced.  _ “I don’t want you to be alone. You’ve had a hard year - you should be home with your family.” _

Her mother wouldn’t understand the weight pressing down on her chest - the knowledge that warped her dreams into sharp talons. Her family, as much as she adored them, were civilians. The first time she’d shot someone in combat, she’d come home and spent hours on the porch with her dad, drinking scotch. But her father was dead, and his advice was far beyond her reach.

She smiled, even though Mariana couldn’t see it. “I won’t be alone. I’ll be with my work friend, and I’ll be home before you know it.” 

_ “If you’re sure.”  _

“I’m sure. I’ll see you soon.” 

_ “I love you. Be safe.”  _

She rolled her eyes to herself. This was  _ Benning.  _ It didn’t get much safer in Alliance space. “I love you too, ma. See ya.” 

The call clicked off, and Ash eased the car into a gentle descent. The house was set on the inward slope of a ridge, overlooking the strange emerald green of Benning's oceans. She'd looked up the why of it on her shuttle flight - but the trivia had slipped through her fingers. She set the skycar down just outside the garage. Everything was silent and still, except for the soft, far away chirping of insects of some kind. Ashley sat in the car for a long few seconds, soaking in the quiet.

On the ship there was always sound of some sort; the just-there hum of the drive core, the clank and turn of machinery. The background noise of her life. 

She wasn’t quite sure whether the absence of  _ Normandy  _ noises was restful or unnerving. Maybe a little bit of both. It was a reminder that a world outside of that warship existed - something she’d half forgotten during the war. Her life stretched out before her, broken into two pieces - before  _ Normandy  _ and after.

Before and after Shepard.

Ashley climbed out and flung her seabag over her shoulder, grabbing canvas shopping bags with the other hand. Benning was all about sustainability - they hadn’t even had plastic at the store she’d stopped by. She’d spent twenty minutes paralysed by the decision of which butter to buy, what drinks to get. Who needed five different brands of butter? What kind of beer did Shepard even drink? She’d always stuck to water and soft drink at  _ Normandy  _ events.

There were things Ashley knew about Emilia Shepard that few did, but there were all these little things she didn’t, and she wanted them all.

All she could hear was the slapping of the waves on the little beach below. Shepard’s skycar was in the carport, covered up, sitting next to a small sailboat of all things.

It felt strangely intrusive to key open the door and step into Shepard’s home, even if she’d given her the keys and told her to make herself at home until she arrived. Ash wished she was here - but arriving together had been out of the question with Shepard’s current public profile. She’d been caught in the clutches of the planetary governor and media from the moment she’d landed on Benning.

In some ways, it might’ve been better for them to go to Earth, with its crowds and apathetic distance from the events of the past year, but Ashley had wanted nothing more than this since Shepard had quietly -  _ nervously -  _ told her ‘I have a place.’ The display of vulnerability from a woman that always seemed like she could move whole planets via sheer willpower had brought Ash dangerously close to kissing her in the damned cargo bay.

It was a little worrying how often she had to chant to herself that she was a professional, an adult with functioning self-control.

Her boots clicked on the floor as she carefully set the shopping down on the bench and her seabag on the couch, casting an eye around as she put the food away into the bare cupboards and fridge. It was clear Shepard hadn’t been home in a long time - there was a thin layer of dust coating the top of the fridge. Still, wasn’t as bad as she thought it might be, considering Shepard had admitted she’d not been there in over a year. 

The detritus of a life spent on the move with only fleeting visits to safe harbour sprawled across the living room with none of the military precision Ash was used to from Shepard’s cabin and Arcturus apartment. There, a Navy jacket with the wrong bars still on the shoulders left on a chair. Here, cargo pants - the sort she’d seen N7s wearing when they were pretending not to be soldiers at all - hanging over the back of the couch. Holos scattered on the desk of Shepard with her family, with friends at bars, in unit photos, with a group of rough men and women that could only be the N7 team she’d led before the  _ Normandy _ .

The exhaustion of travel hung over Ash like a heavy blanket, but she still hesitated before entering Emilia’s bedroom.

Straight out she’d asked, “So, will I be in the spare room or yours when I’m staying with you?”

Shepard had rubbed the back of her neck in that way she had when she was feeling a bit sheepish. “Uh. There’s only one bedroom.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous, Commander,” she’d teased, and Shepard had spluttered indignantly to her delight. 

But it still felt weird. Like she was a voyeur intruding in Shepard’s life, even though she’d been invited in. She looked around anyway, but the room was disappointingly blank except for a sketchbook left on the bedside table. She resisted the urge to have a look - Shepard would show her when she was ready.

She changed into shorts and a tank, careful of her still healing body, and slipped into the soft sheets, falling immediately into a deep, dark, formless sleep.

Ash woke to a rustle in the bedroom and a lance of adrenaline shot through her. Before she was fully awake, she was on her feet, reaching for a gun that wasn’t there.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me.” A familiar voice. 

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, to the white-clothed figure in the room. “Shit, sorry.” 

Shepard chuckled, “It’s alright. I was trying not to wake you. Teach me for trying to sneak up on a Marine.” 

She fumbled for the light switch. Shepard stood there in her dress whites, rack of ribbons lined up on her chest, Star of Terra gleaming dully at her throat, bulky black brace wrapped around her left forearm. It was a sight Ash had seen many times before - but she still let herself drink her in, secure in the knowledge that she could look as long as she wanted.

“How was the governor?” 

Shepard shrugged. She looked good in whites. Real good. Ash could almost understand the uniform fetish some civilians had. “Same politics and pony show as usual. Smile for the camera. Give sound bites about ‘just doing my job, sir.’ They’ll all forget about it soon enough.”

“Fun.” She ran a hand up to Shepard’s shoulder, to toy at the ribbon. The other woman went still as she ran a thumb across the solid bronze star itself. “This as heavy as it looks?” 

Shepard smiled slightly, tilting her head. “Heavier.” 

She reached for the clasp, but Ash caught her wrist. 

“Lemme.” 

Shepard let her hands fall to her sides, and Ash pulled open the heavy clasp and carefully deposited the medal on the desk, beside the other woman’s peaked cap. When Shepard reached for her jacket, Ash waved her off again. She smiled with amusement and made a show of raising her hands. 

“Don’t start,” Ash muttered, pressing a kiss to her jaw.

“Couldn’t wait to take charge, huh?” Shepard let her start on the gold buttons, then slide the jacket from her shoulders. She pulled the white t-shirt she wore off and tossed it carelessly over the nearby chair.

“Like you mind.” Ashley tossed her a smirk before grabbing a coat hanger for Shepard’s jacket. Ripping someone’s clothes off was all well and good, but she doubted Shepard would appreciate a rumbled dress uniform and her ribbons left on the floor.    


She turned back to Shepard neatly putting her boots beside the bed. Her omnitool, discarded on the bedside table blinked a soft  _ 13:43  _ at her. 

‘You’re in late,” she observed, taking silent steps on the cool floorboards closer to the other woman.

Shepard shrugged. “I could’ve caught a flight in the morning, but…” 

“I missed you too.”

She got a warm smile in reply. They hadn’t really been alone since that one night in Shepard’s Arcturus apartment, and a lot of that had been spent talking. There had been the battle and wounds to take care of and reports to write. 

Shepard’s brown eyes fell to Ashley’s side. “How’s the ribs?”

“I’m all good,” she assured. “Still a bit sore, but I’ve been cleared for light duty and everything.” 

“Wasn’t asking as your boss.” Shepard hooked her thumbs into the shiny black belt threaded through her dress pants. As Ashley’s girlfriend? Shepard was usually pretty good at letting you know where you stood but they weren’t exactly in safe harbour relationship-wise.

“I’m fine, Emilia. I feel good. Stop worrying.” She took another step forward, cupping her cheek in one hand, feeling the texture of her chin scar under the heel of her hand. Then she slid the other down her stomach, pressing into the hard muscle of her abs, to her belt buckle. This close to her, she could feel more than hear the exhale that broke from Shepard’s lips in the moment before she kissed her. 

Emilia’s hand slid to her waist, pulling them together. Ash lingered, enjoying the warm solidness of her, running her fingers through the soft curls at the back of her head. The frantic passion of their night together before Ilos had been damned good in its own way, but this was  _ very  _ nice too.

They had  _ time. _

She drew back but didn’t pull away, keeping a hold of her belt.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to keep, you know.” The embarrassed duck of Shepard’s head shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was. 

“If only everyone knew Commander Shepard was such a dork.”  Ash pressed a laugh into the skin of Shepard’s neck, chest warmed by a now familiar amused delight. 

“Shut up,” she grumbled. 

Ash’s grin slid into seriousness. “I don’t make a habit of sleeping with my superiors, you know. You -  _ this  _ means a lot to me. I want to - be with you.” Words. Why were words so goddamn hard? “Even if that means we bide our time until we can be more open.” 

Until they were on different postings and Ash had a bit more rank on her shoulders. 

“Well...good.” Shepard smiled, a flash of white teeth. 

Ash rolled her eyes. For someone so decisive on the battlefield, Shepard could overthink like a pro. 

“Mhm.” She pulled her belt open with a swift snap and nipped at her jawline. “Now shut up and kiss me.” 

Shepard laughed and pulled her closer again, into the warmth of her mouth and the firm pressure of her hand on her back and waist, blunt nails running across the sliver of skin revealed by her tank top. 

Another hard kiss got a sigh and fingers pushing her shirt up. 

“Just remember,” Ash said playfully as she began to push her uniform trousers down her hips. “I’m not the sharing sort.” 

“Roger that,” Shepard laughed and tugged on her until they both fell into the soft sheets.

* * *

 

Ash drew a finger across the swirls of the stark black tattoo sprawled across Shepard’s shoulder blade. She wore her history on her skin, hidden beneath her clothes. 

“Listen, I need to tell you something.” 

Shepard rolled over and stretched, sheets around her waist. “Yeah?”

“Shepard, I…” 

The words stuck in her throat like sharp-edged rocks.  _ I love you.  _ How hard was it to fucking say? She felt it, God, she felt it. But Ash couldn’t bring herself to say it, to this woman she was supposed to  _ yes sir no sir  _ at. Not fuck the night before the most important mission of their lives, not violate their own strongly held beliefs for. Not fall in love with.

But she had.

Shepard smiled, cradling her face in one warm, callused palm. Her eyes were dark and fathomless. The sort of eyes you could fall into. “It’s alright, Ash. You don’t have to say it.” 

“But I  _ do.”  _

“I know. But you do things in your own time, right? Not before, not after. You’re not ready yet, and that’s okay.”

Ashley opened her mouth but Emilia pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. 

“I’m pretty tired. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” 

After a moment she nodded and let her arm curl around the other woman’s waist. There was tomorrow. 


	2. Chapter 2

"You know, this isn't the sort of place I thought you'd have."

They were stretched out on the beach, sea water drying on their skin under the warm afternoon sun. They'd both been feeling somewhat aimless - no guns to clean, no orders to write, no meetings to get to, no one to shoot - but Ash thought she was getting a hold of this relaxing thing.

They'd slept in, if 8 am could be called that, then ended up swimming for a few hours, before Shepard had put her little boat in the water and attempted to teach Ash how to sail. _Attempted_ being the operative word. They'd fallen in a few times, laughing each time, before Shepard had finally dragged the dinghy onto the beach and they'd collapsed onto their towels.

"Hrm?" Shepard propped her head up on her elbow. "What do you mean?"

"It's quiet. You always seem to be surrounded by people, is all."

Shepard seemed to _fit_ on Arcturus Station and the Citadel, like a duck to water.

"Yeah. I don't like being alone too long. But it's nice to take a break from 'Commander Shepard.' And when I'm done being alone, my _abuelos_ live twenty minutes away in town. My brother and stepfather live in Joughin - my brother uses my boat more than I do." Shepard stretched, and Ash leaned back, enjoying the ripple of muscle under her dark skin.

"They won't mind me stealing you for a week?"

"Nah. How about your family?"

"My mother isn't happy, but they'll survive. They'll get three weeks with me."

"They want to meet you," Shepard said abruptly. "My grandparents."

Ash raised an eyebrow.

"Look, my _abuela_ ferreted it out of me. She's like a terrier or something when it comes to my personal life," she scowled.

Ash laughed, flopping onto her back. "Someone who can get shit out of you? I can't wait to meet her."

"Great," Shepard grumbled. "She wants me to bring you round sometime this week if you're up for it."

"Sounds like a plan. Now c'mere."

* * *

"So?"

Emilia Shepard had a lot of fond memories of this house, though they often felt like distant, dreamlike wisps when she was in the Traverse. Eating dinner with her grandparents, roughhousing with her cousins, her _abuelo_ teaching her to sail and garden - alien things to a spacer. She leant in the doorway of her grandmother's kitchen, arms crossed. Outside the window, sparks flew as Ash and her grandfather stoked the fire, working to create the cooking charcoal.

Rosa Alves looked up from her chopping board, a gentle smile creasing her face. "I like her. She makes you laugh."

"I'm glad," she admitted. The most she'd told her _abuela_ to begin with was that she had a woman over - mostly to stop her cousins or brother coming by to borrow her car or boat. But her grandmother had dragged it out of her.

"It's been a while since I've seen you into someone like this. Not since…"

"Rita," Shepard frowned slightly, a sharp pang of guilt stabbing into her gut. Rita's ship had been destroyed in the Battle of the Citadel, because of _her_ orders. Rita had survived, but Shepard knew what it'd be like, carrying the weight of the crew who'd gone down with the _Trenton._

"It is good to see," Rosa said with a nod. "I know you are often lonely, Emmy."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "I'm surrounded by people all the time, _abuela_."

"I said you were _lonely,_ not alone, and I think you know there's a difference. You don't seem that way now. And I don't think it is just Ashley either."

Rosa had a way of seeing into her that had always been a little comforting and a little unnerving. "I have a good crew. Friends. And Ash…"

She'd loved her N7s, of course she had, but she'd never given herself to them in the way she had MSOT 6. Not the way she now did with the _Normandy._ They'd followed her to the ends of the galaxy - such devotion demanded the same in return. When a unit chose you that way, they owned you.

"I think I'm falling in love with her," she admitted, glancing out the window, at the silhouettes of her girlfriend and her grandfather, fire dancing in front of them, weaving up into the sky to disappear.

Rosa put down the chopping knife and swept over to seize her in a hug that was fierce despite its caution of her still healing body. "Oh, Emmy, I'm very happy for you."

"Thanks, _Abuela_ ," she murmured, kissing the top of her head.

"How is your arm?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's fine. I've had worse."

Rosa glared at her. "That doesn't mean I can't worry. You should be more careful. You have more than enough Purple Hearts as it is."

"A dreadnought fell on me," she protested.

"Bah. Go take this out to your _abuelo_ ," Rosa said with the unmistakable hint of an order. Shepard was far from a sixteen-year-old girl anymore - she was a decorated naval officer with her own command.

She meekly took the bowl from Rosa's hands.

* * *

Relatives were nothing compared to all the times Ash had nearly been shot in the last year. Right? Right.

Sparks flickered up into the darkening evening, the bonfire snapping beside the low glow of the pit full of coals as Ash settled in beside Shepard on a blanket spread on soft, green grass. The Alves home was small and rustic, built of warm brick instead of the blocky plastic and metal of the prefabs she'd grown up in. Houses like these took a lot longer to build, but she could definitely see the appeal. Rosa's garden of native Demeter flowering plants - a riot of purples and reds and whites - rivalled old Ziva's down the road from the Williams family home.

Shepard's grandfather tended the coals - and the slab of meat suspended over them. His initia; silence had given away to a wry, biting humour as they'd worked on the fires together.

Shepard slung an arm around her shoulders. "They'll have to roll me back to the _Normandy_ after a few weeks of my grandparents' cooking."

Ash leant into her, lips just brushing the shell of her ear. "I'll help you work it off."

They had a good nine months of sexual tension to burn off, after all.

Shepard's lip curved in that half smile. "I'll hold you to that."

"Do either of you need anything? Drinks?"

Shepard pulled back slightly, her voice light. "We're good. Sit down for a moment."

Where Shepard was all coiled energy and directed intensity, her grandmother barely came to Ash's chin, and moved around in a flurry of expansive gestures. Given both Shepard's normal gravitas and that her usual limit for physical contact with ninety percent of people was a clap on the back, it'd been thoroughly amusing watching Rosa Alves shower her in affection and direct her around.

As Euler finally dipped below the horizon, it was time to eat - flank steak with bread and salad, Shepard a warm weight against her side. Shepard grumbled a little when she realised her _abuela_ had cut up her meat - "What am I? Six?" - but there was a hint of gratitude in her expression. Ash knew how much the weakness and paralysis in her left hand was driving her nuts.

"Thanks for this," she murmured as they set their plates aside, stuffed so full she was worried she'd burst.

Shepard just smiled at her, leaning into her, and they watched the dying fire sputter and dance.

* * *

Shepard woke to an empty bed, the sheets cool when she ran a hand over them. It was still dark, none of the apartment lights on, and a flicker of concern ran through her. She pulled on a shirt, grimacing at the aches and pains, and went looking for her disappeared girlfriend. Her body liked to remind her that she'd lived a hard thirty years.

The other woman was leant over the kitchen bench, her palms flat against it, her shoulders rising and falling with erratic breathing. The long, dark hair Shepard had been running her hands through earlier that night hung down like a curtain, concealing her expression.

"Ash?"

Ashley jolted at her voice, spinning to face her. There was something in her eyes Shepard didn't recognise, her fists clenching and then unclenching. Her voice was rough. "Hey."

"Are you alright?" She took a step forward, but stopped when Ashley flinched, withdrawing into herself.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Ash," she said gently. "Talk to me."

Ash's jaw worked and then her shoulders slumped. "I couldn't sleep, so I checked my omnitool, and I got an email. From Marie Neal."

"Yeah?"

The other woman pressed the heel of her palm into her forehead, leaning heavily into the bench. "Her daughter Penny was one of my squad leaders in the 2/12. She was my friend. She...she fucking died right in front of me and now her mum wants me to talk to her about it."

Shepard opened her arms, and after a moment Ash half-staggered into them, pressing her face into her neck. Shepard just held on tight. "Do you want to talk to her about it? It can be cathartic, for both of you."

"It was a fucking awful way to die." A tremble ran through the length of her. Shepard stroked her hair. "And I ran, Shepard. I left her there."

"You survived," Shepard reminded her, "and you did what you had to do to make it right."

"I don't think we did." Ash slumped into her. "I shot the bastard in the face, but it doesn't...they're still all dead."

"I know." She kissed her jaw.

"I just keep playing it over in my head, you know? I wanted to dig in, do a proper defensive perimeter with patrols. But my platoon commander didn't think it was necessary, and I didn't push the point because I was worried about losing my platoon sergeant billet." Ash shuddered against her. "They trusted me, and I couldn't get them out of that ambush. I crawled out of there while they were still executing the wounded."

"Ashley," Shepard said firmly, pulling back to look at her, "anything you could have done differently would've gotten you killed or merely delayed the inevitable. When I asked you to guide us to the spaceport - after everything that had happened, you went right back in."

Ash stared at her for a moment, face shadowed, and then she began to sob. Hard, bone-shaking sobs, like she was breaking apart. Shepard eased her over to the couch and wrapped herself around her like she could hold her together.

"I'm here," she murmured into her hair, "I'm here."


End file.
